


On the Edge

by bleuvelvet



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Rough Sex, Spit As Lube
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:49:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27921049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleuvelvet/pseuds/bleuvelvet
Summary: Excerpt:Dean needs something.  Anything.  Everything is going to shit and he can't do one goddamn thing about any of it.  It makes him feel like he's going to crawl out of his skin.  He needs to do something.  Fuck someone.  It doesn't matter.  He feels as if he is going to lose it if he can't release the pent up energy but he's stuck in this room with only an emotionless angel for company.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 4
Kudos: 71





	On the Edge

**Author's Note:**

> This fic is brought to you by: Dizzy by MISSIO. I don't know why.
> 
> Someday, maybe, this scene will be repurposed for another, much longer fic, but for now have some porn.

Dean needs something. Anything. Everything is going to shit and he can't do one goddamn thing about any of it. It makes him feel like he's going to crawl out of his skin. He needs to _do_ something. Fuck someone. It doesn't matter. He feels as if he is going to lose it if he can't release the pent up energy but he's stuck in this room with only an emotionless angel for company.

He looks up into Cas's big, blue eyes and an idea crosses his mind. He's up and across the room before he can stop himself. He doesn't want to stop himself. Not really. Something has been simmering there, underneath the surface, for a while now.

He's got the lapels of Cas's coat in his hands and he tugs the angel to him. Cas goes easily, letting Dean move him. And then he's biting at the full lips in a move that's less of a kiss and more of a devouring. He pulls back after a moment and meets blue eyes with his own green.

"This alright?" He asks, even though he is fairly certain Cas wouldn't refuse him even if it wasn't. And Dean doesn't know what that makes him; that he knows that and he still won't stop unless Cas explicitly tells him no. He's angry, and he's broken, and a million other things, but he's not a rapist.

Cas stares at him, expressionless, for several moments before tipping his head in a slight nod. Dean takes that as the 'yes' he's looking for and dives back in.

Soon, he's ripping off the angel's coat, nipping and biting at whatever available skin he can reach. Cas kisses him back, hesitantly. He helps get both of their clothes off and lets Dean maneuver him onto the nearest available flat surface, which happens to be a table.

He nips and licks his way down the angel's torso, leaving red marks wherever he goes. While he's not particularly rough, he's not gentle either. When Dean gets low enough, he's gratified to find that Cas seems to be enjoying the interaction, at least a little. The angel's dick is half-hard and seems to steadily be working its way up to full interest in the proceedings.

It makes him feel a little less like an asshole for using the angel this way.

Dean nips and sucks at bare thighs before standing back up and kissing Cas again. It's more of an actual kiss this time instead of the assault from before. He steps back and unbuckles his jeans, sliding them down his thighs far enough to get his dick out before crowding back in and slotting himself into the angel's hip. He gives a couple little thrusts against the soft skin there, groaning at the relief the little bit of friction brings.

He gives a desperate whine, too far gone to be embarrassed at the noise. It's not enough. He needs more. "Cas…" he begs.

The angel looks at him quizzically. A pink flush has taken over the angel's face and run down his chest. His legs are spread wide to accommodate Dean's bulk between them. And Dean probably shouldn't find that so hot, but he does. Cas is open and vulnerable and Dean can see _everything_ and he knows what he wants now. What he needs.

He's not really in the habit of fucking dudes, but he's been alive long enough that he knows he can't just go in dry. He doesn't have lube, so he sticks two fingers in his mouth, and wets them thoroughly. Once he deems it good enough, he trails them down beneath Cas's balls to the tight furl behind them. He traces a wet fingertip over it. "This okay?"

Cas nods. He leans back, giving Dean better access and grips the edge of the table with both hands.

"Might hurt a little. Sorry," Dean grunts and then slips in a finger to the first knuckle. It's tight and the spit is barely enough to ease the intrusion, but Cas says nothing. He doesn't even flinch.

He works the finger in and out a few times before he takes it out, wets them again, and shoves in both fingers. Cas makes a noise then, flinching just barely, and Dean freezes. "Cas?"

"Keep going," the angel says, and Dean abruptly realizes it's the first thing Cas has said during this entire encounter. "The...discomfort is limited to the vessel. It does not affect me."

That doesn't really reassure Dean. "Cas-"

Cas digs the fingers of one hand into Dean's shoulder to the point of being almost painful. "Just do it, Dean." He releases Dean's shoulder and grips the table edge again.

And, well, Dean's not really in the right frame of mind to argue. He feels like if he doesn't fuck the angel he's going to explode out of his own skin or kill someone. It's better that it's Cas instead of a random, helpless person, he tells himself.

So he continues to work his fingers in and out of the angel's body, stretching him as much as he's able before the need takes over again. He pulls his fingers out, spits into his hand, and gives his dick a few quick tugs, spreading saliva and precome over it before lining himself up with the angel's entrance.

He sucks in a breath and with a quick glance up at Cas's face to check that he's still on board, he pushes in. It goes more easily than expects. He has a suspicion Cas is forcing his body to relax against the intrusion in a decidedly inhuman manner, but he also doesn't really care because Cas is warm and tight and perfect around him.

He buries his face into the curve where the angel's neck meets his shoulder, gulping in deep breaths as he tries to hold still for a moment to let Cas adjust to the intrusion. After a few moments, he hears the angel telling him to move, and he does. He pulls back and thrusts in hard. 

Cas makes a soft noise that lands somewhere close to half way between pain and pleasure and throws his head back. Dean pulls out and does it again, and again, and again. Each time the noise Cas makes gets closer to pleasure. His dick is hardening again, too, after having flagged from the rough fingering.

Dean picks up the pace, slamming into the angel hard enough now that the table is rocking with his efforts. Cas is still gripping the edge of it, knuckles white, his head thrown far enough back that Dean can't see his expression. 

It doesn't matter, he tells himself, and watches himself plunge in and out of the angel's body instead. The pink, puckered hole is wrapped tight around his dick. It's a rather pretty sight, he thinks. And Cas is apparently enjoying it too, if the moisture leaking from his tip is to be believed.

He keeps fucking into Cas, hard and fast, chasing his release. He needs to come. Needs the moment of blankness that orgasm provides. Where nothing exists except for that release of built-up tension at the base of his spine and deep in his belly.

It happens faster than he expects. He's so focused on watching himself fuck the angel that the first hint he gets that Casl is coming is the feel of smooth muscles tightening around him. Then he sees the thick white stripes painting the angel's stomach and then Dean's eyes are slamming closed as he comes, hips stuttering as he pushes as in far as he can, releasing deep into the body underneath him. His mind goes blissfully blank.

He comes back to himself, panting, forehead pressed against a sharp collarbone. He pulls away slowly, groaning as he pulls out of Cas's lax body. He stares, for a moment, at the mess he's made of the angel. Come coats his belly and tangles in his dark pubic hair. Dean's own contribution seeps out from the pink, puffy, twitching hole he's just fucked for one of the best orgasms he's ever had in his life.

Cas's chest is heaving as well. His head is no longer thrown back and instead he's gazing at Dean, expression calm, like what they'd just done was no more meaningful to him than a stroll through the park. 

Like a bucket of ice water being dumped over him, the weight of what he's just done comes crashing over Dean.

He's just fucked his best friend. Cas. An angel. For no reason than it was either that or go out and find someone else to do the same to and he hadn't wanted to subject some poor, hapless girl to that. He watches shamefully as Cas climbs down from the table and goes about cleaning himself up, mostly the human way, with an assist from his angel mojo here and there.

Slowly, he buckles his jeans and pulls his shirt back on. He sees Cas do the same, covering the marks Dean had left on his body. It means something, he thinks, that Cas is choosing to leave the bruises rather than heal them, but he can't let himself think about it anymore than that right now.

They finish dressing and Dean mutters a thanks before stalking out of the room, desperate to shower and wash the scent of sex and his best friend off himself. He ignores the way Cas stares after him, a glint of something he doesn't want to identify in the angel's dark blue eyes, no longer as expressionless as he was before.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a comment or kudo if you enjoyed it!


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